


for you, in turn.

by kenmoomoo



Series: kuroken drabbles [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Asexual Kozume Kenma, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kozume Kenma-centric, M/M, Pining Kozume Kenma, intimacy??? but completely sfw!, kenma mains peach!!, kenma's parents appear for like 2 seconds hehe, mentions of ssbu, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27886813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmoomoo/pseuds/kenmoomoo
Summary: “i don’t hate it,” kenma says, and it’s so, so quiet, and kuroo can’t even hear him but he’s tired and not thinking as he usually does. “your affection. i don’t hate it.”
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: kuroken drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041936
Comments: 8
Kudos: 97





	for you, in turn.

♡

sometime in august, when the sun beams through every nook and cranny and the fan is weak from overuse, kenma is finishing up notes for english. he sort of sucks at it. kuroo’s notes help to refer to though, and makes the process a lot easier since the material has already been summarised and smoothed over once.

“kenma, are you going to eat when the food’s ready?”

“no.” kenma flicks at kuroo’s fingers aiming to grab at his book. kenma’s spent much more time than he’s wanted to on this and kuroo tends to nag whenever he sees kenma half-assing something.

“why? you don’t even know what i’m making.”

“don’t want to. ‘m not hungry.”

a hefty sigh comes from kuroo. “oi, kenma - are you having appetite issues again? do you need a banana? or a yakult?”

“not really.” he licks his lips, the surface waxy yet dry. “maybe lip balm.”

“you want to eat lip balm?” he says, then realises. kuroo is probably the smartest person kenma knows, but at times that intelligence vanished quickly. “oh. got it.” he snorts at his mistake and clicks his tongue, exiting to the kitchen to make sure he doesn’t burn kenma’s house down.

kenma abandons the page of notes and closes his school workbook, shoving it along with his pencil and eraser into his bag. he lies tummy-down on the apple-green blankets of his bed and tugs his switch from the charging port, loading up _super smash bros ult._

from the character selection screen, kenma moves the switch’s stick to hover over and choose peach. he changes to the fire variant of her outfit, and goes through with the selection. a waiting screen pops up to show his card as well as the enemy, yellow kirby’s.

kenma gets to 25% whilst the kirby is at 113% and it almost makes him feel bad when he swipes at them, throws a turnip that sends them recoiling back off of the platform, and kicks them to the point of no return. _almost._

he climbs unto the safety of the platform, doing a singular swaying-hips taunt. yellow kirby returns and gets dropped into the play field again, however, now that they’ve been figured out, he takes them down again and again and then he’s moving on to the next one. and the next.

kenma hears kuroo come in and flop on the bed, bouncing kenma on the mattress a little. he leans toward him, looming over kenma even when they’re sitting, and spectates him.

“kuro...you’re close,” he says without looking up. kuroo shifts.

“sorry, sorry,” he hands some lip balm to kenma and then lies on his back. long legs stretch out, their lower half settling in kenma’s lap. “figured you might want me as a lucky spectator.”

“lucky?” kenma is absolutely destroying this king dedede. he applies the lip balm and rubs his lips together to take in the product. he taps his fingers on the side of the switch.

kuroo’s tone becomes something strange. “yeah, don’t you want the presence of your senpai as encouragement?” he wiggles his toes in kenma’s field of view and kenma doesn’t know if that, or kuroo referring to himself as _senpai_ is more gross.

“no. i was winning without you watching,” kenma deadpans.

“fair.”

kuroo sits up and sticks out an arm, fingers brushing kenma’s back. kenma flinches. perhaps not getting the reaction he hoped for, kuroo hums, putting two fingers under kenma’s chin and scratching gently, causing kenma to glare down at his screen.

“ehhhhh? you hate my affection that much? c’mon, kenma.” he spares him a glance. kuroo outstretches his arms, the grin on his face only barely telling of ulterior motives. kenma rejects him wisely.

“oi, kenma~” kuroo puts his feet on the bottom edge of kenma’s switch, covering peach’s face. “hey.”

when this doesn’t garner attention either, kuroo rubs his foot against kenma’s thigh. kenma swats at him. the rejection pulls another groan from the older boy’s throat.

“kyaaaaaaanma! nothing? not even a nuzzle?” too busy kicking a rando pit’s ass, kenma gives his answer in the lack of one. a weight falls over him as kuroo’s chin digs into his shoulder.

“kuro -” he turns and is met with warm breath fanning out over his face, and kenma can’t hide the minute shock on his face at how close they are. he swallows, his brows furrowing the tiniest bit and it’s so weird. _it’s so weird._

kuroo doesn’t get any closer, but it’s still as though kenma’s space is becoming more invaded. kuroo’s eyes drift down a second. the beep of the oven goes off clearly through the ajar bedroom door. kuroo licks his lips, the edge of his mouth twisting into a faint smirk. he does not say anything and simply leaves the room again.

the muffled whir of the tower fan fills the silence as kenma tries to process whatever that was. _he pisses me off sometimes._ the sweat accumulated under his underarms becomes increasingly apparent. mixed with the draft of the fan, it draws out a shudder.

he notices pit has knocked him over the edge a few times, having taken advantage of his being AFK - which would normally upset him, but his thoughts are swirling around other things.

namely, kuroo and the quickened tempo of his heart.

he simply exits the game and opens ACNH instead. less to focus about.

five minutes pass. then ten. fifteen minutes go by, and kuroo hasn’t come back. kenma commands his character to go to raymond’s house and stand inside. the character starts idling in front of him as raymond paces the room. kenma puts down the switch. he peels his shirt from his body, wincing at the stickiness - _i should shower._

he gathers clothes and takes his phone with him, heading into the washroom. he sets them on the counter and gets in. the water is lukewarm. he massages strawberry shampoo into his hair and green apple scented body wash runs over his skin smoothly.

kenma would choose plain soaps and such, but kuroo had mentioned something to tora once about liking girls with pretty, sweet-smelling hair and - and kenma isn't a girl, and he certainly does not care about what or who kuroo is interested in, but he started to buy sweeter-smelling things since then.

it shouldn’t have mattered to him - kuroo hasn’t reacted differently anyway. or maybe...he wasn’t imagining the way kuroo lingers a fraction of a second longer when they hug. or maybe - just maybe - kenma is reading too much into this and should abandon this train of thought in full.

rinsing his body, he turns the nozzle off and sits on the edge of the tub. suds swirl around the drain; tiny iridescent bubbles all clustered together like honey mushrooms. they’re pretty. he also notes the clumps of suds sliding down the walls in a race to the bottom and pieces of light hair. he picks the hairs up and drops them into the bin.

kenma dries himself with a towel until he’s satisfied, though his hair is still wet - he pulls on a thin sweater and shorts, water dripping and lightly soaking through the fabric. he sets the towel about his shoulders to catch excess water and grabs his phone, pulling open the door. a rush of cool air hits him.

how long has it been now since kuroo went to check on the food? curiously, he goes downstairs and sees the oven is off and something in an oven-safe container sits on the counter, covered by aluminium. the scent of apple pie sitting in the air prods at kenma’s stomach. it evokes a weak growl.

 _so he was making apple pie?_ kuroo doesn’t really cook anything, let alone bake, so it’s probably premade. that being said, it flatters kenma that he would go through the trouble of this.

he messages kuroo, _hey._ and pokes at the aluminium. it’s still rather hot to the touch. his phone buzzes. _hey. finished your shower?_

kenma wrinkles his nose and starts back up the stairs. _how did u know i was having a shower?_

 _you were singing._ kenma scowls down at his phone. _i was not._

 _okay, you weren’t. but i heard the water : >_ of course. _ok._

kenma tucks his phone into his pocket and walks into his room. kuroo is sitting at the desk, headphones on whilst he cycles through kenma’s steam account for games. the second monitor shows a playlist titled _tetsurou kuroo._ naturally. kuroo’s phone is at the edge of the desk.

“are you just going to stand in the doorway? menacingly?” kuroo faces him with a hint of a sneer.

there is a speck of something on his chin and where the light hits him the brightest, kuroo’s face shines with sweat. if this were a romance drama, his hair would be blowing softly and a pretty glow would outline his body. a tiny creature tugs on kenma’s heart strings. he stares.

“...you alright?” kuroo’s teasing lilt fades off. this tone doesn’t sound any one sort of way really, though it feels a bit - concerned. or...conflicted?

a possession takes place, kenma thinks. this must be it. there’s nothing more suitable to explain what propels him to gently push away kuroo’s arms and climb into his lap, sinking down onto the firm muscle of kuroo’s thighs. he can feel kuroo tense at first beneath him, then relax. kenma crosses his legs. it’s uncomfortable and there isn’t much space and the chair grunts under their combined weight but it’s oddly calming.

it’s weird. it’s weird that kenma feels so drawn to him suddenly. is it because kuroo’s been so touchy and playful with him? or has he always been drawn to kuroo and never realised?

things are fine. kuroo is playing an otome game shoyo had somehow gotten kenma to download and he’s rested his chin atop kenma’s head. kenma does not know how he feels about this.

“your hair is dripping,” kuroo says, his breath on the back of kenma’s neck making him shiver, and kenma actually forgot about that.

“oh.”

“want me to help?”

“sure.”

he takes the towel from its place on kenma’s shoulders, rubbing back and forth gently. the pressure of kuroo’s nails are soothing against his scalp. from this proximity, an indie folk song bleeds through the headphones around kuroo’s neck for kenma to hear; the singer’s voice is tender and low. kenma closes his eyes. he isn’t sure of the last time someone’s done something like this - well. kuroo has helped a few times with the tie on his uniform, but this is more intimate, he thinks.

with his back leaning against kuroo’s chest, kenma feels how warm kuroo’s skin is through their thin clothing. he hones in on kuroo, kuroo, _kuroo,_ and he’s wrapped around his finger and then some. kuroo smells of bittersweet bergamot and remnants of _apple pie. apple pie..._

kenma’s stomach cries out.

kuroo begins to shake a bit and kenma wonders if he’s gotten really emotional for some reason and then kuroo lets out a stifled, breathy sound and - he’s laughing at him. of course he is.

“what?” kenma asks. kuroo giggles, something low and amused and mildly disturbing.

“nothing, nothing,” he says, letting go of the towel. it falls on kenma’s head and obscures half his vision. kenma looks at him, unconvinced.

“you said you didn’t want anything to eat.” he picks up the towel and wipes at the water on kenma’s neck before throwing it over the back of the chair. “but then you went to the kitchen, so i’m guessing you saw and got excited thinking about it, eh?”

kenma averts his eyes and mumbles, “you would’ve made me eat it, anyway.”

another airy sound. “...i would’ve, yeah.” he pats his back. “you want some now, though, right?” kenma nods.

kuroo’s hold is light - he places his hands on kenma’s hips as kenma unfolds his legs, and stands at the same time. kenma draws in a breath sharply when they’re both standing, he being pressed against the desk and kuroo pressed against him.

the warmth between them grows and spreads to kenma’s ears, cheeks, and the pit of his stomach - the best way to describe is that he is akin to an olympic torch. yes, that is quite fitting.

they end up in the kitchen still clinging to one another, not saying a word. half an hour has passed since kenma left the shower, so the pie should be at a suitable temperature by now.

kenma lifts the aluminium and sets it aside, a familiar scent making its way to him. the delicacy itself looks amazing, and kenma was right - it’s just like the store-bought kind he’s purchased many times before. but kuroo fixed it up for him, so it’s special. _kuroo is special._

his hands haven’t moved from when they’d snuck up under kenma’s top, warm against his waist. kuroo’s hands are so big, his fingers would overlap if he moved them more towards the navel. and the thought of kuroo moving his hands under his shirt...kenma stops thinking those thoughts. _not now._

taking a fork, he cuts into the single apple pie and gets a good balance of crust and filling. he brings it to his mouth and closes his lips around it, reveling in the first bite. kuroo laughs at him again.

“please.” kenma says simply. he takes another bite.

“you made a face.”

“what face?”

“a, kuroo-is-the-best-and-i’d-totally-kiss-him-for-this, face.”

kenma grimaces and chokes on the sweet filling. he coughs. that obnoxious hyena-like laughter rips through the atmosphere, straight into his ear.

“kidding, kenma-kun.” kenma makes a disgusted face at the name, too. “but it’s good, isn’t it?”

“it’s okay,” kenma answers, not wanting to feed his immense ego. he doesn’t have to see kuroo to know he’s smiling.

“share some with your senpai, hmm?”

“could you not do that.”

“sorry, sorry~”

they sit at the table and unevenly share the apple pie. kenma tried to split an equal amount between them, but every time he went to feed kuroo, he would grab the fork and flip it the other way. once he’s eaten most of it he pushes the utensil coming his way as kuroo had, urging him to finish and he does, much quicker than kenma would’ve.

kuroo takes care of the dishes, leaving kenma to sit at the table alone. he pokes at his basically-dried hair and twists a lock of it round his fingers. his mind wanders, thinking of kuroo’s touch, his laugh, his sweet actions. he hadn’t really thought about it, since kuroo isn’t exclusively touchy or annoying with him, but the feeling of wanting to be the only one kuroo acts like this with and means it differently sits in kenma’s stomach heavily. he tugs the lock of hair and frowns.

when it’s kuroo, it’s teasing and playing games, but also taking care of each other. sometimes kuroo might hold kenma’s games hostage until he eats, or tutor him in classes he’d rather flunk than give effort to. in turn, kenma reminds kuroo not to overwork himself and to get out of his head sometimes. _friends do that._

when it’s kuroo, it’s natural - they can sense how the other thinks of something without saying a word, and know exactly what to do when one of them is upset or sulky. _friends do that, too._

why does the thought bother him?

“you’re thinking too hard.”

kuroo ruffles kenma’s hair. it feels nice. as kuroo scratches the top of his head a grin spreads across his face, bringing kenma back to the bit of food on kuroo’s chin. he simply swipes it up, recognising the texture - pie crumbs. he sprinkles it off his fingertips. when he meets kuroo’s eyes they are quizzical.

“kenma…” kuroo licks his lips, eyes darting to kenma’s and a strange sensation bubbles up in kenma’s chest. _he’s so close._ his fingers falter to touch kenma’s face. “...can i?”

kenma gives a hesitant nod. kuroo thumbs over kenma’s cheek, his touch careful and slow. he’s watching his lips, dragging his thumb over the bottom one, and kenma’s heart beats uneven and rapidly. kuroo’s lips are mere centimetres from his now.

“kuro…” kenma swallows his saliva and notices how dry his throat has become. his face is heating up and he thinks kuroo’s is, too.

_friends can do this, too, can’t they?_

“kenma-kun, we’re home!”

he flinches and retreats. the front door closes, and after some shuffling out of their coats and shoes, in walk kenma’s parents. kenma wills his heart to stop beating so loudly.

his mother notices kuroo first. “kuroo-kun! are you staying over?”

“if-” kuroo coughs. “if that’s okay.”

“you’re welcome anytime you like,” says mr. kozume. he sniffs. “is that...apple pie?”

kenma’s mum is in awe, eyes sparkling. “kuroo-kun, you made apple pie for kenma-kun, didn’t you?”

kuroo laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “ah, well - i wasn’t sure how i’d get him to eat otherwise.”

“we’re sorry if he’s made trouble,” mr. kozume says with clasped hands and a chuckle. “he’s always - ah, you know how he is. we’re thankful for you, kuroo.”

he shuffles off then, perhaps to start tea. mrs. kozume smiles at the two boys, kuroo bowing in her direction, and then she heads off as well.

kenma tries to ignore the tingling on his lips.

—♡—

flipping onto his side for the fifth time in the past half hour, kenma comes to the conclusion it just isn’t time for sleep yet. he would play games, but kuroo is a light sleeper, and on top of that seems like he has a sense for whenever kenma is doing something he shouldn’t be.

kenma rolls over, staring at the side of kuroo. he has an eccentric sleeping position that confuses kenma more than anything, but he doesn’t appear to be sleepy many days at all, so at least it works for him. kenma stretches his arm out, fingernails sweeping over the sheets til he is able to poke at kuroo’s back. the log of a boy doesn’t react. he pokes again. nothing.

furrowing his brows, kenma is propelled as he was earlier to rest his hand on kuroo’s back. warmth radiates from the spot and kuroo’s muscles are firm under kenma’s touch, rising to fit into his palm with each rising breath.

“i don’t hate it,” kenma says, and it’s so, so quiet, and kuroo can’t even hear him but he’s tired and not thinking as he usually does. “your affection. i don’t hate it.”

the fan hums, barely audible over kenma’s heartbeat. it’s been too unstable today. because of him.

“and…” kenma rubs circles into kuroo’s shirt, varying in sizes but all etched in slow. “you’re really annoying and pushy sometimes, but. if it wasn’t kuro who teased me and told me these things, i would never do them.”

a tiny, tiny smile crawls onto his face. “but you already knew that.”

he takes his hand off of kuroo and pulls one of the pillows enough to swoop in, giving a kiss to his cheek. he puts it back. then, kenma lies close to kuroo with his legs pulled to his chest, the summer air feeling a little easier to breathe, and falls asleep in minutes.

_(and if kuroo kisses kenma’s forehead in turn sometime later, running fingers through his hair and smiling at his resting face outlined in the muted evening’s light - well, kenma is none the wiser.)_

♡

**Author's Note:**

> just wanted to make some soft content :> i will probably do a tiny series of kuroken drabbles here so!! ♡


End file.
